A Flaw in Love
by smemily
Summary: It has been a year since William Thatcher defeated Count Adhemar in the World Tournament and he is now living with his wife Princess Jocelyn in their second home in London. A war has broken out on the border of FranceBelgium, however, and William and his
1. A Knight's Tale begins again

_Disclaimer: __ I do not own any of the characters in this story so far.  Unfortunately William, especially, is not mine.  I apologise profusely if I have offended any of you in writing this story._

A Knights Tale-beginning of the end.

            William Thatcher stood at the bedroom window of his castle, on the outskirts of London.  Or should I say Sir William Thatcher, soon to become Prince.  He looked over London towering below the hill, where his trusty friend Wat was tending to a new horse-a chestnut mare, which William had won in a tournament just a week ago.  William smiled and walked over to the bed, lying down next to his beautiful wife, Princess Jocelyn of Rouen-soon she would become Queen and rule her father's empire.  The castle in France had not been lived in since a great fire broke out, caused by Count Adhemar's supporters-after he lost the World Tournament, the year before.  William touched his wife's sweet, tanned skin, as she lay delicate as a flower, breathing gently.

            Jocelyn awoke aware that William was up.  He would do that every morning-just lie and stare at her…and she loved it-the simple closeness between them, becoming more magical when he ran his finger along her neck and down her rising and falling chest.  When his hand reached her stomach, Jocelyn opened her eyes-she had basked in the pleasure long enough.  William tenderly placed his body upon hers and they kissed, long and hard, passionately.  Then they stared into each other's eyes-a year ago neither would have imagined this possible.

"We've only an hour left," whispered Jocelyn.  "I cannot imagine six months without you, my love."

"Then come with me!"  Begged William.

"I cannot."  A tear slowly ran down Jocelyn's face, though she still looked like an angel to her husband.  "My Father is dying…he needs me here until the end, and besides it is too dangerous over in France…Oh say you still love me William!"  She closed her eyes and pressed him close to her.

"I will always love you Jocelyn, like the flower loves the sun.  You are my life.  No matter what happens when I am away, I'll always be with you."  William felt Jocelyn's warmth beneath him-such purity and goodness.  

"I hate this!"  Cried Jocelyn, feebly.  She pushed William off her and rose from the bed.

"To think a knight's tale never ends," she sighed, smiled at her husband and called the maids and footmen to prepare William for his departure.  

            Before William left the castle, Jocelyn's father summoned him to his chamber.

"My son" he gasped-the consumption made it hard for him to breath.  "Do not leave my daughter alone in the world.  Be strong.  Forget your differences with Count Adhemar, and listen to your friends.  They have been well trained for the coming events-do not be hasty."

"Yes, my lord," obeyed William.

"Now go."

As William started towards the door his father-in-law coughed and wheezed.  Maids came rushing in and the blood poured out of his mouth-the illness was incurable now the spotting had become floods.  

"William" he choked "Good luck-you can do it!"

William nodded, winked, and hurried down the corridor-it was better to leave quickly so as not to cause a great fuss or too much grief.

            William approached the stables-it was a beautiful, fresh day and Wat and Roland were already tacked up.

"Will!"  Cried Wat.  "I've sorted your horse and the carts!  Kate sent you this package-you see here?"  He pointed to a trademark on the box-two tick shapes.  "That's her emblem remember-like you put on your armour!"  Wat was ecstatic at the thought of a package from Kate the Blacksmith-he had always had a soft spot for her.  William tore of the brown paper and opened the box.  Inside was shining new armour.  He read the note:

_"William, this is my newest armour-hope it fits.  It's the heights of fashion in Paris.  Knock 'em dead mate. KB x"_

William could just hear that thick Scottish accent, and imagined Kate giving him one of her encouraging grins.

"Always keeping you up there with ht hottest idols 'eh Will!"  Laughed Roland.  Wat and Will laughed with him, but each man felt a knot of anxiety for what was to come, though none showed it.

[A horn sounds]

"Men!  You country await you!  Tidings behold and do them proud!"  The familiar voice of Geoffrey Chaucer was coming from the castle gates.  Riding on horseback, he looked a picture, especially as he was already geared up in his second-hand, somewhat dented armour.

"Been gambling again have we Geoff?"  Teased Will, laughing.

"Just the clothes on my back and my trusty horse are all I need…oh and my sword of course," grinned Chaucer back.

            Everyone in the castle came out into the courtyard to bid goodbye to the four men-exactly what William did not want.  William and Jocelyn held each other tightly.

"Here," said Jocelyn "My scarf-the exact one that you wore when you won the World Tournament last year."

"Love made me win that tournament-love alone" replied will.

"Skill too!" The couple laughed.  Will kissed Jocelyn gently and put something cold in her hand.

"A lump of metal?" she questioned.

"Yes," said Will.  "When I come back I'll make this metal into an eternity ring-it means I _will _return."

"I love you," whispered Jocelyn.

"I love you too."  Will winked and turned to the handmaid, Christiana.  "Look after Jocelyn well."

"I will Sir, goodbye."  Said the small French voice.

"Goodbye," nodded William.

Christiana looked at Roland.  "Goodbye Roland."

"G-g-g-goodbye" he replied, feeling his cheeks burning as he kissed Christiana's hand.  She gave him a knowing look.

            The four men and their horses walked down to the gates.  As the gateman closed them behind him, Will looked up at the castle, breathed a deep breath to savour the moment, the view, then followed the others down the road.  Wat was already complaining about his stomach-typical.  Will hummed a solemn tune.  Would he see London looming below him again?  Would he ever again watch the sunset with his beloved wife?  What would become of him, William could only guess.  War would be tough.


	2. The time has come!

_Disclaimer: __ I do not own any of the characters in this story so far.  Unfortunately William (I love you Heath!!!), especially, is not mine.  I apologise profusely if I have offended any of you in writing this story._

            The camp was set up in Portsmouth ready for the troops to sail to France in three days time.  The previously green grass had been trodden down by the mass of horses.  The four men had been travelling for a couple of days and dusk was nearing when Will and his friends were in the queue to sign up. 

"Next!  Next…NEXT!"  Shouted an officer.  "Name?"

"William Thatcher, Sir Thatcher."

"Age?"

"22 years"

"Thatcher, William…" muttered the officer.  "Ah yes, lot 17, tent 21-up with the legends there-eh?"

"What?  Oh!  Uh…yes."  William blushed.  He had been dreaming of his last kiss with Jocelyn.  As the men walked through the field Wat shouted.  "OI WILL-look 'ere Ro and me, we've been put wiv all the soldiers!"

"You are a soldier Wat-you're going into battle!"  Laughed Will.

"Yeah but Chaucer's with you and all them important knights and that-"

"That is because, I man, have a brain," interrupted Chaucer.  "Think about it!"

Chaucer and Will rode off to the stables, grinning as Wat and Roland followed, muttering annoyed to one another.

            Will strode into the tent, followed b a somewhat gleeful Chaucer.  They were dumping their bags down on the animal skin "beds" when Will heard footsteps behind him.  

"Well, well, well," said a stern, taunting voice.

"The "black night" returns" chortled Geoffrey.

"Ah Chaucer-the wooden writer-someone pitied you and made you a knight eh?  Oh…oops, sorry I mistook you for a man for a moment there!"  Count Adhemar's patronising tone and superior smile was soon wiped away, as William stepped in.

"Of course, Adhemar, if I remember correctly you were _very_ much the man when I knocked you off our horse in the tournaments last year" he retorted sarcastically.  Adhemar looked disgustedly at Will and spat on the floor before striding away.  William turned to say something to Chaucer but he was nowhere to be seen.  

"You looking for Geoff?"  Asked Wat, poking his head round the entrance, "He hooked up with some…shall I say "courtesan"…either that or he went to get a full body massage with a rather…delic-I mean crude looking masseuse!"  Wat winked at Will's rather unsurprised face, tossed his head back in laughter and ran off singing at the top of his voice.

            William thought of Jocelyn at home in their big bed alone, with nobody to hold her or protect her, whilst he was here, in the middle of a cold field, with nothing over him but an itchy, dead animal.  He could not get comfortable-he was shattered and yet wide awake, and he wanted his wife's arms wrapped around him, caressing his skin, her lips gently touching his neck.

            Sitting on the window ledge of her chamber, Jocelyn thought of William, worrying about the battle he was going to face in just a few days…maybe less-nobody knew.

            A loud noise bellowed throughout the tents, sore to the ear, the men one by one, woke, startled.  It was the middle of the night…the early hours of the morning maybe-the siren should not have been going off now…not until three days time when they reached France.  The men could hear horses running around, and the boats were being loaded.  William went out side, dreamy still and not fully aware of what was going on.

"All men aboard!  THE WAR HAS NOW BEGUN!"  The opposition troops had arrived early.  William's journey had begun.

A/N:  I have had some discussions and tips about the historical inaccuracy of this story.  I would just like to say THIS WAR IS MADE UP.  IT IS NOT SUPPOSED TO BE BASED ON A REAL EVENT.  THIS IS A S-T-O-R-Y…that is fanF-I-C-T-I-O-N.  Thank you (don't mean to be rude!) xox


End file.
